


these are the lives you love to lead

by deadwine



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band), 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Alternate Universe - Rock Band, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Found Family, M/M, Mentions of Injuries Sustained While Performing, Nostalgia, Self-Discovery, Touring, nerding out over korean punk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-18
Updated: 2020-09-18
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:49:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26412157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deadwine/pseuds/deadwine
Summary: In a summer of reckoning spent on the road, Seokmin's voice is the only thing rooting Jungkook to the things that he loves: the stage, the sea and his music.
Relationships: Jeon Jungkook/Lee Seokmin | DK
Comments: 7
Kudos: 23
Collections: Emo BTS Fest





	these are the lives you love to lead

**Author's Note:**

> firstly, a big thank you to isi for the beta and for the endless support, in my dms, on the doc- just hyping me round the clock. and to anu for being my soundboard and support system despite being clueless about the fest! i love you both <3
> 
> this is essentially a warped tour fic but set in the context of the local emo scene in korea as i wasn't comfortable writing the popular american emo culture into a korean context. i'm not american myself so i'm also unfamiliar with the nitty-gritties of the scene there and this is something i grappled with a lot while planning. 
> 
> i hope i did justice to the prompt as well as the theme of the fest nonetheless. happy reading :)

_Are we growing up or just going down?_  
_It's just a matter of time until we're all found out_  
_Take our tears, put them on ice_  
_'Cause I swear I'd burn this city down to show you the light_  
\- fall out boy, sophomore slump or comeback of the year 

_And it takes acquired minds_  
_To taste, to taste, to taste this wine_  
_You can't down it with your eyes_  
_So we don't need the headlines_  
\- paramore, born for this 

**Day 1: Seoul**

It's early afternoon by the time Jungkook shows up, still a good few hours away from their slot but painfully late for the first day of tour, if Jihoon’s red face- and loud cursing- is anything to go by. 

“You’re already getting on my nerves, you brat,” Jihoon grunts, his grip a little too tight on Jungkook’s sleeve when he launches himself onto his hyung’s body. Sungjin grins at him from the steps of the trailer as Dowoon climbs down excitedly. He puts his arms arounds both Jihoon and Jungkook and stands still, pretending not to see Jihoon’s put-on frown or hear him bark at Jungkook, “Go give Jun your guitar, he’s been waiting on your lazy ass.”

Junhui doesn’t look up from all the equipment splayed around him, quite at home amidst the madness that he is at the center of, but he does put a hand out in his direction with a light ' _Kooks'_ and Jungkook holds it for a second before handing him his guitar. Dowoon and Sungjin are playing something on their phones and Jihoon has already gone back to frowning at his watch; Jungkook feels the intimacy of the scene in front of him settle somewhere in the middle of his chest.

“Where’s Jimin hyung?”

“Umm...his stuff is here with me, but you know what he’s like,” Junhui answers. Jungkook isn’t surprised. They’ll be lucky if they see Jimin at all before their set. 

“Well, I’ll just be back in a bit,” he says after loading his bags on the trailer. “Don’t worry, I won’t take too long,” he adds when Jihoon fixes him with a pointed glare. He walks off aimlessly, making his way around the grounds on muscle memory alone- the set-up hasn’t changed much over the years though the scale has gotten a little bigger. Luckily it’s a dry summer; there had been occasional thunderstorms in July but none that were likely to carry over into the weeks of the tour. 

“JEON JUNGKOOK,” a voice rings out before a weight latches itself on to Jungkook’s back, arms coming around his neck and legs crossing over his waist. “You know if you wouldn’t have screamed, I would’ve thought it’s Jimin hyung,” he pinches the hand on his shoulder and laughs as Baekhyun struggles to keep his balance. Eventually Baekhyun drops off his back and smacks Jungkook, turning to Chanyeol who’s just walked up to them, grinning, and slaps him too, unwarranted but not unexpected. 

“Yah Byun Baekhyun, don’t injure your lead guitarist before the fucking tour has even started,” he whines, looking at Jungkook for comfort who was looking for an excuse to hug his biggest, warmest friend anyway. Baekhyun just smirks at him and lets slip, “We could always have Younghyun take over instead, you know he’d _love_ to take the lead.”

Chanyeol drops his arms from around Jungkook and steps away, face flushed up to the tips of his ears and says, “Then you wouldn’t have a bassist.” Baekhyun looks like he wants to torture him a little more but Chanyeol stops him- “I don’t wanna talk about Younghyun right now- please.” He turns to Jungkook with an animated grin, “Ready for the anniversary round, Jungkook-ah?” He’s almost bouncing on his feet as he says it.

“I don’t know, hyung, I haven't been here since the very beginning but yeah? I guess?” Chanyeol frowns and throws a mock-punches on his shoulder, “what do you mean? it’s been the three of us since before the September Tour even existed okay?” Jungkook squints at him as the afternoon sun falls on his face and nods, letting a loud laugh escape when Baekhyun throws an arm around his shoulder and butts his head. “It's going to be the best tour ever!”

They simply walk all over the place for a while, clinging on to each other and doubling over in laughter as Baekhyun imitates chanyeol fumbling in front of Younghyun during practice. They tease Jungkook over the new additions to his sleeve which turns into them trying- and failing- yet again to convince baekhyun to get inked. it’s as familiar as setting up with his band- the company of his two friends who are responsible for where he is standing today, the bump of their shoulders against each other and the crunch of gravel under their worn-out shoes. 

They don’t talk about the anniversary again, or about Baekhyun’s phone blowing up with last minute venue changes or about the dark circles under Chanyeol’s eyes probably from all the nights spent between practice and hunting for new sponsors for next season even as music critics looking from the outside in speculate whether he’s about to sell out; and all of that while he's in the middle of organising the current tour. 

They don’t talk about it, but Jungkook thinks about it all the same, late at night lying on the bottom bunk after a brief tussle with Jimin; he thinks about how it feels less like a celebration of the last ten years and more like an ending. He isn’t sure if he’s afraid of the possibility of the tour coming to a close, or that it might not when he wants it to.

**Day 2: Seoul**

Jungkook _hears_ him sing before he meets him for the first time. It's only the second morning but the listlessness from the night before returns when he wakes up and he has to get out of the trailer to escape his own thoughts. It's early still, so he sits down next to the empty table of band merch to fiddle with his phone until the others are up. 

He hears him just as he's about to head back to the trailer, to try and force his body to relent and get some more sleep, voice ringing loud and clear in the field empty of almost anybody at this time in the morning. Jungkook staggers back at the force with which it hits him.

It's not a voice he's heard before- Jungkook's been around long enough to know the sound of most of the singers that flit in and out of the scene and he knows he'd remember a sound this pure, this sweet yet _strong_ ; he can think of a hundred different cliches about voices of velvet-gold and they wouldn't come close to describing the grip that this voice has on his heart in that moment.

Then, like it's fate, Jungkook recognises the song. It's Park Hyoshin's Breath. That’s not a song you hear someone belting at ass o’ clock in the morning during a punk rock tour, _ever._

Park Hyoshin’s music is powerful and is invariably an emotional listening experience for Jungkook but he’s never quite been _this_ affected by his singing. The voice holds him in its thrall even as it fades away and Jungkook stands halfway between the table and the trailer, nerve endings firing and overwhelmed in the middle of an empty field, asking himself _who the hell does that voice belong to?_

**Day 4: Seoul to Daegu**

By the time they get on the road, it’s almost noon. They had all woken up hungry and it had been an easy decision to grab some bibimbap before heading out insteading of sticking to their stock of snacks and ramen. Jungkook listens to Sungjin fiddle with his acoustic for a while before climbing up to Jimin’s empty bunk with his laptop- Jimin whines at him in true Jimin fashion despite himself lying spread-eagle on Junhui’s bunk, the latter distractedly running a soft hand through the mess off orange on his lap. 

He puts on his headphones and listens to what he’d been working on the day before. He feels a little foolish, trying to capture the tenor of his body’s emotional response when he heard that voice into a song- but it's just him and his music here and it doesn’t really matter if it sounds silly or lacks a logical justification as long as it ultimately sounds good. 

The others know that he composes stuff, of course they do; they live out of each other’s pockets ten out of twelve months in a year and they all have their fair share of inputs to Bassline's music though Jihoon does produce a large chunk of it on his own. However, nobody gets to hear jungkook’s personal stuff, the tracks he’s been tinkering with for the better part of the last decade, abandoning them one after the other, as he gets more and more disillusioned with his own vocals. Junhui’s heard a track or two, on an off day couple summers ago when it had been just the two of them in the trailer restringing guitars and Jungkook had given in to junhui’s request- Junhui never asks and when he does, Jungkook doesn’t hesitate. There is a unique comfort to Junhui’s brand of sensitivity paired with unembellished candour.

Dowoon is the only one who _has_ heard most of his stuff- they’re kindred souls in that sense. Dowoon finds an outlet for the unabating rhythms running through his mind by helping Jungkook lay down beats and Jungkook gets to see Dowoon make attempt after attempt to baby him and give up almost immediately. They also share an odd sense of humour that only Sungjin understands sometimes and it's good, a convenient system that Jungkook is fortunate to have even if having a trusted confidant heightens the cloak and dagger nature of it- his music, that is personal but not _secret,_ gets buried even before he’s realised what he’s doing.

**Day 5: Daegu**

Jungkook _meets_ him for the first time on their first day in Daegu. The sun’s just starting to set and they’re all scattered close by, bodies in motion as the pre-show nerves start to kick in. There’s still an hour and a half before their slot but they have a complicated history with Daegu stages- its small things usually, not mistakes that the crowd picks up on; but one year Sungjin and Jungkook both performed the entire set off-key and not deliberately. unfortunately, mishaps like that tended to creep up on you as reminders; and worse, they tended to linger.

Dowoon is trying to distract them with his umpteenth rendition of a Lee Jung-jae impression when Jungkook spots Soonyoung walking up to them with someone unfamiliar in tow. The guy is dressed like pretty much anybody else here, a band tee and ripped jeans with a pair of boots. He also has a band tied just over his forehead that pushes back his hair. Jungkook doesn’t spot him or Soonyoung so much as Soonyoung starts waving his arms at them with a wide grin, possibly with the single-minded intent to make Jihoon scowl. 

Soonyoung pinches Jihoon’s cheek as soon as he reaches them. “Hey guys, how have you been?” They respond in a chorus of hi’s and hello’s, unfazed by the sight of him in Jihoon’s chokehold. Jimin even reaches over to tighten Jihoon’s hands around Soonyoung’s neck. He pulls himself free somehow, rubbing his hands over his neck and remembers the the guy standing behind him who is taking in the scene in front of him with visible bewilderment. From this close Jungkook spies the smattering of moles from his cheek down to his neck as well as the hoops accompanied by the clip-ons going up to the middle of his ears. His hair is lighter under the rays of the setting sun, with bangs resting in waves atop the bandana. It isn’t a stretch to say he is one of the most gorgeous people Jungkook has ever seen.

Soonyoung drags him closer to the rest of them and announces dramatically, “Guys? Meet Seokmin, our new lead vocalist.” 

The new guy smiles at them warmly, introducing himself with a short bow, “Hey, it’s good to meet you all.” Jungkook’s heart jumps to his throat. 

It’s _him._ The voice in his drafts and at the back of his mind during every waking moment- this boy has made Jungkook cry before they’ve ever come face-to-face with each other and Jungkook has only had him in his head for the last four days.

Soonyoung throws an arm around him- _S_ _eokmin-_ and points at Jungkook, “That’s Jungkook. He’s your age, I think.” seokmin’s eyes flick to him and he nods at Jungkook who continues to stare at him silently, still in shock over meeting what he could have easily passed off as a figment of his imagination. Jimin registers that something’s off and shoves Jungkook’s shoulder, smiling up at Seokmin. “Don’t mind him, he gets weird sometimes. I’m Jimin, by the way- definitely a better lead guitarist than Soonyoungie over here,” he giggles.

Soonyoung pouts and opens his mouth to retort but he’s cut off by Jihoon. “Where’s Seokjin hyung?” he probes, breaking Jungkook out of his daze. 

“Oh, yeah,” Jimin pipes up, “like Hannie would ever let hyung leave his band.”

“He got an acting gig. You know how he always wanted to take that line, ever since college.” Soonyoung plops down on the empty chair beside Jihoon. “Besides, Seokminnie here has quite the voice- wait till you hear him.” 

Well, Jungkook can definitely attest to that. He is going to miss having Seokjin around though- they always got up to the craziest shit together and the few times they had convinced Yoongi to join them on their pranks have been some of Jungkook’s funniest memories from tour.

“Have you recorded a new album then?” Junhui comes back from the trailer and ruffles Soonyoung’s hair, who sends them a cheshire grin. “Yeah. we’ll play the older stuff too obviously, but we debuted new stuff in Seoul.”

Jihoon whistles, “Namjoon hyung’s going to have fun with _that._ ”

“Yeah, I’m not worried about him.” Soonyoung sighs. “Hoseok hyung, on the other hand...” He trails off with a worried look. Jimin laughs- that fucker is the only one Hoseok is soft on, after all. Jungkook can see they’re about to argue about who’s reviews are more terrifying yet again and so he turns to Seokmin, who had been watching them curiously from the sides all this while.

“How did you join the band, Seokmin-ssi?”

Seokmin is momentarily startled at being addressed but he turns to Jungkook with a blinding smile. “Soonyoung hyung and I grew up together. I’ve actually known both him and Jeonghan hyung for a long time. When Seokjin-ssi left, they happened to be with me and things just unfolded from there. And here we are.” He gestures at the chaos around them with his hands.

“Oh, iIve just never seen you with these guys before- social circles overlap here, you know? Even when we’re not touring, most often we know what the other bands are up to.” Jungkook’s voice is hushed, unsteady- he hopes his nervousness isn’t written all over his face. (He _prays_ that the eyes he feels on his back are not Jimin’s.)

Seokmin’s answering smile is rueful. “It does seem like a tight-knit circle. I’ve been singing for what feels like forever but I’ve never been a part of something like this.” He looks at Jungkook and everything that surrounds them in wonder. Jungkook knows what he means, can see every emotion he felt as a 15 year old walking into the grounds at Seoul for the first time painted on Seokmin’s face.

Soonyoung’s voice cuts through the moment. “He’s internet famous, Jungkook-ah. Check out _dksings_ on Youtube.” To Seokmin he says, “We should probably go before Seungkwan personally hunts us down.” Seokmin nods and waves in farewell to the rest of them before directing his smile at Jungkook again. “See you around, Jungkook-ssi.”

“Call me Jungkook.” He smiles back, giddy with the sound of that voice coursing through him. He can’t remember the last time he’s been this affected by a person- by the mere _sound_ of them- but he can’t complain, not when he can hear Seokmin’s giggles fading away to the buzz of the crowd and the stage in the distance. Junhui catches sight of the look on his face and raises an eyebrow in question. He merely shakes his head.

**Day 7: Daegu**

On the last day in Daegu, Jungkook runs off stage the minute their set is over, handing his bass to Junhui with a quick plea before sprinting all the way to the main stage; in the initial days of the _september tour_ , there used to be just one main stage and fixed slots for bands but now things change every year, even within a season, the logistical details vary from venue to venue. 

The final slot for the main stage is always fixed. The White Catss have grown out of the scene in Daegu, before this tour even got put together and they’re unbeatable crowd favourites here on home ground. Jungkook spots Chanyeol and Baekhyun hanging at the back, a little apart from the crowd with Yoongi and Seungcheol. Even further apart, he can see Sunmi comforting a frazzled looking Joohyun. Managing the Catss is never easy, but especially not in Daegu.

Seungcheol is complaining about not getting to enjoy home shows as usual when Jungkook squeezes in between Chanyeol and Yoongi and holds out a hand. Expectedly, Yoongi takes it. He tunes out the conversation around him and focuses on the stage. 

Dahye and Kibum sing the first line of Give It To Me acapella and there is a second of absolute calm before the instrumentals kick in and it is pure energy all around them: Jungkook is caught up in it, lets the bass guide the beating of his heart as he closes his eyes and throws his head back. Watching Kibum and Dahye together is an indescribable experience- they’ve been playing together since the second year of middle school and it _shows_ ; they’re the most in-sync bassist and guitarist that Jungkook has seen in the last decade.

Joohyun pulls Seungcheol away closer to the stage after a while, looking a little more relaxed now that the set has started. “Remember the time Dahye noona almost fell through the stage?” Chanyeol asks all of a sudden. 

Yoongi laughs. “God, yeah. Jungkookie cried all night.” Jungkook pinches his hand but doesn’t say anything to refute him; his stomach turns at the mere memory of Dahye limping off stage.

“She came back the next day on crutches and _destroyed_ that set,” Baekhyun adds. “What a fucking badass.” 

Chanyeol huffs out a laugh and throws a hand over both Jungkook and Baekhyun’s shoulders. He doesn’t say anything for a brief moment but they all kind of know what’s coming.

“Can you believe it’s been ten years?”

Yoongi wrenches his hand free of Jungkook’s grip and jumps up in joy. “Pay up, Byun Baekhyun.” He does his signature happy wiggle and runs a little circle around them, stopping in front of Chanyeol and peering into his eyes, “Hyung, would you please let out a tear- just one will do- I want to seal the deal.”

“You fuckers- I hate you guys,” Chanyeol moans, but there’s no heat to his words.

Baekhyun, on the other hand, looks genuinely put-out, grumbling at Chanyeol, “We’re not even halfway through the tour, you dick. Couldn’t you have waited till Busan before getting all emotional- I had good money riding on this.” Chanyeol smacks his head and in a rare show of compliance, he shuts up. Yoongi chooses the momentary silence to stick his tongue out at chanyeol.

It’s another couple minutes before Jungkook speaks up, a little hesitantly. “It does feel like ten years, hyung. I haven’t even been here for all of them but I’m somewhat tired- like the years have caught up to me.” He looks down at his feet, pulling at the rips in his jeans, caught between wishing he hadn’t spoken or explained himself better.

“Hey, it’s only natural to feel a little out of it, Jungkook-ah,” Yoongi answers softly. “We all have days- months even- when we barely go through the motions of performing.Bburn-out is nothing to feel embarrassed or guilty about.” It’s a characteristically Yoongi way of comforting him and it never fails to surprise him how quickly Yoongi can go from being a brat to being his hyung. Chanyeol gently pulls him back and rests his entire body weight on Jungkook, perching his chin on Jungkook’s shoulder, just holding and rooting him to the moment.

Baekhyun runs a hand through Jungkook’s hair and winks at him before he starts to speak with an exaggerated sigh. “Well, _I,_ for one, wholly feel all these many years in my aching old bones. Imagine spending the prime of your youth managing two oblivious idiots and their stupid band- imagine spending year after year watching them dance around each other-”

“Yah, will you ever let this go, Baekhyun-ah? Just- he’s not interested.” Chanyeol grumbles into Jungkook’s shoulder.

“Chanyeol-ah. He pulls down his bandana over his eyes after turning to you and basically humps the mic stand every goddamn day, what part of that is screaming ‘not interested’ to you?” Baekhyun responds, exasperated.

“What he said.” Yoongi backs him up.

Chanyeol sulks, refusing to meet any of their eyes. Jungkook thinks about his Youtube watch history and the ringing in his ears, thinks about what it would be like to spend a decade dancing to the tune of that sound. He puts his hands over Chanyeol’s arms and pulls them towards himself. “Hyung, will you at least think about telling him after this tour? Please?” Chanyeol sighs and nods, forehead bumping against the juncture between Jungkook’s left arm and shoulder. 

It’s bittersweet, this ephemeral evening that they’ve spent reminiscing. Jungkook is distended between an unfinished ending and a half-hearted beginning despite having embarked on the same journey together with the rest of them. Jungkook wonders when things will come full circle for him as well.

**Day 10: Gyeongju**

The first week is behind them and the venues are getting hotter. Gyeongju is drier than Seoul and Daegu had been. Jungkook tastes the dust in his mouth mid-performance- it happens often enough- but he can never quite get accustomed to it.

After, Jimin drags him to where Purple Hazehas set up shop- their trailer standing out against the barren background, Taehyung’s own customization. It’s not like he’s been avoiding hanging out with them- not really. But he’s not gone over and made himself at home on Taehyung’s bunk like he usually does either. 

Taehyung jogs over when he hears Jimin’s loud, garbled rendition of Pia's Oil Lump and squishes Jungkook’s cheeks, making cooing noises that always get him riled up. Jungkook grits his teeth and lets him have his fun, fully aware that resisting will only make Taehyung tease him longer. 

“Let him go, Tae, he’s here to see loverboy.” Jimin tells Taehyung with a smug smile. 

“Jimin, I swear-” Jungkook shoves Jimin as hard as he can. Unfortunately, Jimin grabs onto Taehyung right on time and manages to keep himself standing. 

“That’s Jimin hyung to you, brat. And did I lie?” He looks over at where Seokmin is listening into Seungkwan and Chan’s conversation with an expression that could only be described as horrified fascination. “Hey Seokmin! What’s up?” Seokmin looks across and flashes them all a smile, walking over.

Jungkook has a tingling sense of foreboding as he watches Jimin slip an arm around the bend of Seokmin’s elbow, glancing at Jungkook with a look of pure evil. “Did you know Jungkookie here has been watching your covers every night?” he snickers.

Seokmin’s eyes widen and Taehyung whips towards him with a sly grin mirroring Jimin’s. “Oooh does Jungkookie have a little crush?”

Jungkook wants the ground to open up and swallow him whole. His entire body from his feet up to his face heats up within half a second as they stand there in silence, waiting for him to respond. 

“That’s not- I- you have a beautiful voice, Seokmin-ssi.” He eventually professes, releasing his clenched fists.

“Oh.” Seokmin looks startled, like he’s never even considered the idea that he may have a beautiful voice and Jungkook is frankly insulted that the guy is clueless about the power he holds- over Jungkook and possibly everyone who meets him. 

Jimin giggles at whatever pained expression is painted on Jungkook’s face and Jungkook finds himself just a comment away from punching him in the face. He probably senses the direction that Jungkook’s thoughts have taken because he grabs Taehyung’s hand, unprompted, and walks off without an explanation, casting sneaky glances back at him over their shoulders. Seokmin, the poor guy, is left standing there trying to make sense of their muted aggressive communication.

Jungkook sighs. “Sorry about them- did we interrupt you?” He gestures towards Seungkwan and Chan, who, luckily for Jungkook, were still locked in what looked like a fiery debate. 

Seokmin shakes his head fervently. “More like you rescued me from having to spend another minute with those two when they’re all up in each other’s faces.” 

“They just need to fuck.” Jungkook snorts crudely. Seokmin coughs but he nods in agreement all the same. Jungkook takes his phone out of his jeans and checks the time, “Hey,” he turns to Seokmin, “do you want to go watch the final set? The Nocturnals will be on. Have you seen them perform yet?”

Seokmin’s face brightens when he registers what Jungkook has asked. “No I haven’t, but god, I’ve heard _so much_ about them- let’s goo-” he bounces on his feet, smiling from ear to ear and _fuck_ , it’s the most adorable thing Jungkook has ever seen. 

The last of the sun rays are streaking across the horizon and the dry heat of the day abates, but only just. They walk step-in-step, a tad shy and measured, weighing each other up.

“Did you really watch my covers?” Seokmin asks him without looking at him, voice soft and wavering like he’s afraid Jungkook might mock him for even entertaining that thought.

“Yeah- all of them,” Jungkook’s response is just as soft- easily missable in the furor of the evening crowd. He looks up and finds Seokmin peering at him in quiet apprehension. Some ntouchable part of him quakes, begging to be let out. “I’ve never heard a voice quite as incredible as yours. It’s unbelievable, the way you sound. I could never tire of it.” 

Well _fuck._

Seokmin’s cheeks flood with colour and Jungkook is sure he’s doing no better, he’s almost twenty four and yet to learn how to bite his tongue. “I- thank you-” Seokmin stutters out, “no one’s ever said that about my singing before.” He looks stumped for words for an instant until he collects himself and asks Jungkook appraisingly, “You listened to _all_ my covers? They’re mostly ballads.”

Jungkook frowns. “So? I think we have similar taste in music. You have covers of some of my favourite artists- Yang Da-il, Jaurium…”

“Wait- shit I- I didn’t mean that to come across as judgemental- though I’m not sure if that would count as the right criteria for judgement around these parts. I was just.. surprised, I suppose.” He pauses, reassessing his own words. “How did you get into this scene then?”

They’ve reached the main stage just in time for Chanyeol’s personal favourite show opener- all six feet of him jumps around on stage screaming Gatchi Gatchi Hae into the mic, the crowd screaming right with him as the rest of the band joins in, one by one, as they get on stage. Sunmi noona starts them off with a basic groove leading straight into her solo: they switch which member gets to do the opening solo every day and Jungkook loves how every single one of them has something distinct and fresh up their sleeve at every show that they do.

He smiles at Seokmin and points towards the stage, “Them- this is how I got into this.”

Seokmin nods in understanding, “When you first saw them perform?”

“Yes and no. iI used to play Legion with Chanyeol hyung and Baekhyun hyung- he’s the one who manages the band. They’re the ones who got me into emo, and punk rock and all of it, really. Well, they got me to start listening to it but it didn’t become a _thing_ that I was hooked on until i saw YB perform at Busan Rock Fest one year, which is also when these guys performed. That was the first time the three of us met in person.”

“And when did you become a part of this?” Seokmin motions at the grounds splayed out around them.

Jungkook smiles fondly, shaking his head to get his bangs out of his eyes. (The regret of growing them out is always higher post-show though it would’ve probably been worse if he’d actually had a good show.) “I used to be around in the beginning, just helping out with the equipment sometimes- that’s when I picked up the bass. I wanted to be able to play an instrument. The band...well, that happened before Busan Rock Fest one year. All of us are from Busan and I’ve known Sungjin hyung and Jihoon hyung since I was a kid. Jihoon hyung brought us together. He’s actually got great vocals himself but we could never convince him to join us on stage. We started doing this tour from its third year, I think? I’m sorry, I’m just rambling on and on, aren’t I?” He asks, a little sheepish.

Seokmin shakes his head vigorously. “No, please, I’ve never been in a band or anything that even slightly resembles what you have. To have grown up surrounded with music and to have made such long-lasting friends through it- I wish I had experienced something like that. I used to do musical theatre in school and that was a lot of fun but I’ve never been a part of something like this.” He bites his lip and stares back at the stage in awe, again with the look of incredulity like it could all disappear in front of his very eyes.

It’s _something_ , watching Seokmin watch his oldest friends perform a music that speaks to him, because of what it is and what it stirs in him; standing side-by-side, sharing the summer heat, the pulse of the music coursing through the night and the wistfulness of the moment, so very intimate and divergent and yet inexplicably tying back to both of them.

**Day 13: Busan**

Busan feels every bit like the homecoming it is. They get into town early on their off day and everyone takes a couple hours off to go take a good shower in the comfort of their own homes. Or, that’s what they decide upon, but instead all of them crowd into Sungjin’s apartments since he’s the only one with his own place in Busan. They get back to the trailer late in the evening, mostly owing to Sungjin’s need to have his place cleaned twice. They also have to take a detour when Chanyeol calls Jungkook begging them to bring back chungmu gimbap and hotteok. 

Chanyeol, Yoongi, and surprisingly, Younghyun are waiting for them when they arrive. They eat till they’re about to burst and then they eat some more. Dowoon fishes out their beer and it’s the closest Jungkook has come to feeling content this tour- watching Jihoon turn scarlet-red after half a can of beer only to climb back into the trailer to avoid doing something stupid. (Jeonghan still brings up the infamous lap dance Jihoon gave Seungcheol on the night they were first introduced.) At some point Dowoon edges his chair closer and just flops down on Jungkook’s shoulder. Jungkook pretends not to see Younghyun lifting the entire lower half of his body onto Chanyeol’s lap.

And all of this is _before_ the actual show. Jungkook gets on stage on the first day at Busan and remembers why he fell in love with it in the first place. It’s like every inch of body sings on finding what it had been searching for- it’s inexplicable how the stage makes him _whole_ when everything’s just right. The bass feels light on his shoulder, the lights on him revving him up instead of blinding him and every instrument around him comes together like it's supposed to. He looks out at a crowd full of familiar faces and grins something feral.

When they come off stage, Jimin jumps at him, all sweaty and happy, face splitting in the widest grin he can conjure. “You fucker, where have you been? I’ve missed riffing with you like that.”

Jungkook laughs, still high off the rush that a good day on stage evokes. He feels like he could run a marathon and when he looks around at his bandmates and it’s obvious they all feel the same. Even Sungjin looks like he could go on for an extended encore. This is the shit that he _loves_ : becoming a body of emotion that can only speak through the strings of his bass and the lilt of his melodies. If someone asked him an hour, even fifteen minutes after a show what he did on stage- he couldn't tell them. He has no control over his actions up there, he couldn’t possibly rationalise it- but this feeling, this feeling of floating on magic even as he _creates_ it, he can sink his teeth into and hold on, hoping and praying to whatever is out there that they let him have it, hold on to it. 

**Day 15: Busan**

The next two days in Busan pass by quickly, like time always does when the going is good.

They take the main stage on the last day because no one else can close at Gwangalli beach quite like they can. It’s an incredibly emotional show for them; the last time they performed at the venue was eight years ago at their very outing as a band, at Busan Rock Fest. Every one of them has screamed themselves half-hoarse by the time they wrap up their set with Paldogangsan _,_ an old satoori track from their first album which drives the Busan crowd wild every time they play it there. Jungkook is pretty sure Jihoon is crying when he hugs him as the band comes off stage, but he’s not about to ask, not when he himself has tear-tracks running down his cheeks that he didn’t even realise they were there until Junhui softly came up behind him to wipe them off for him.

They make quick work of packing up all the equipment into the trailer and then they’re running at breakneck speed down the length of the shore. _T_ _his_ is what makes Busan special. It’s the only place with venues on its beaches and Jungkook’s earliest memories of rock are of the sound of their amateur, shy Pia covers and the smell of the sea, of the beat of the drums interplaying with the intervals of the waves. Jungkook loves the ocean as much as he loves the stage, maybe more- the stage is a fickle friend. The sea is unwavering in lapping up to his shore.

By one a.m. Jimin, Taehyung, and Chan- that guy had an uncanny knack of finding cheap alcohol and was particularly useful in these tight spots- show up with a couple crates full of peach soju. They had vanished a couple hours earlier with a singular purpose because while there was no lack of alcohol on any of the trailers, the soju on the beach was a tour tradition and Jimin would be damned before he let it break.

They don’t bring back enough glasses so Jungkook grabs a bottle for himself, content with sleeping off the hangover on the bus the next day, when Seokmin finds him- or perhaps he came looking for him. They’ve been talking- hanging out- now that Jungkook has stopped avoiding the Haze trailer. Seokmin invariably ends up falling into conversation with Jungkook, keeps finding his way back to him and Jungkook is caught unawares every time it happens. 

He’s not complaining- far from it. He learns more and more about the other every time they talk and it’s like fully soaking yourself in the pool instead of just dipping your toes down the edge of it. He now knows that Seokmin and Soonyoung studied in the same school from elementary till the end of middle school, that he has a family dog called Coco and that his one true weakness is pizza. Jungkook also knows that he’s just as enamoured with Seokmin’s voice, maybe more, now that he’s acquainting himself with the person it’s attached to. It’s telling how it isn’t just Seokmin’s voice that makes his pulse race under his skin.

Jungkook grabs another bottle of soju and hands it to Seokmin wordlessly. He receives a crescent-shaped smile in return- Jungkook isn’t good at dealing with change but he thinks he’s already made himself at home with the spark that runs through him every time he’s subjected to one of those smiles.

“So...I just watched you guys perform.” Seokmin says after a gulp of his soju. Jungkook is grateful he’s looking at his bottle because he’s certain his face is glowing like a danger sign even in the darkness of the night.

“And what did you think?” He asks once he’s steadied himself.

“Do you even have to ask?” Seokmin laughs a little self-deprecatingly. “You have to know the effect you have on people when you’re on stage, Jeon Jungkook. And to think you were going on about _my_ vocals.”

Jungkook nudges him with his elbow. “Hey, I meant every word I said, I still do. There is absolutely no comparison to be made here. We’re leagues apart, Seokmin-ah.”

Seokmin’s voice hardens. “Half the audience was in _tears_ by the time you stopped singing, Jungkook, you are clearly not perceiving things as they are.”

“Oh, come on.” Jungkook responds, “as a vocalist, I’m sure you can discern very well how frayed my voice is. Even a casual listener could pick out the difference between our vocals.”

“Your voice sounds like you have been singing professionally for over ten years, it sounds exactly like it's supposed to-”

“I’m not talking about natural wear and tear, I mean real damage.” Jungkook intervenes while Seokmin is speaking. 

“Well that’s a load of rubbish." Seokmin refutes instantly. “I think your judgement about this is severely skewed....but I know you’re not going to believe me.”

“I don’t- what does that mean?” Jungkook asks, puzzled by Seokmin’s insistent denials of what he’s saying.

For the first time since they met, Seokmin doesn’t have a smile on his face. There’s a crease on his forehead and he stops walking, lost in whatever battle he’s fighting inside his head. “Jeonghan hyung told me you might be like this,” he says at last, resigned.

Jungkook’s surprised, to say the least. Everyone knows everyone and it’s not gossiping exactly because the scene is too small for secrets. He feels uneasy nonetheless. He’s never dealt well with people’s perceptions of himself. So he braces himself and asks, “Be like what?”

Seokmin’s voice is extremely soft, gentle even, when he responds. “Like you think you’re not good enough- for the scene, for music-” his voice falters, “for me, I don’t know.” He runs a distressed hand through his hair. 

Jungkook feels like someone’s stripped off his clothes and pushed him onto a live stage surrounded by a roaring crowd. It’s a shocking jolt to his senses, to be seen with such unmistakable clarity.

He takes a long drag of soju, lets the burn travel down his throat and simmer in his stomach before he speaks. “He’s right. I do think that. Because it's true. I _am_ not good enough, especially not for you. You’re too good for this, Seokmin-ah-” He gestures at the stage and the crowd milling behind them, “- for what we have here.”

“ _G_ _od_ you are not defined by a bad season, I’m sure I don’t have to say that to someone as experienced as you.” Seokmin exclaims, throwing up a hand in frustration. “And what do you mean i’m too good for this?” 

“I mean that you could go places with that voice. It’s made for something bigger than this fleeting dream we hold on to here. But me? I’ve spent half my life here, this is all I know. Even if I wanted to be somewhere else, this is all I’ll be good for.” Jungkook doesn’t have it in him to look straight at Seokmin then, to observe the foreseen realisation that must be written on his face.

“That’s so unfair- both to you and me. I’m not going to say anything more about your self-perception. Needless to say, that is a conversation you need to have with yourself. As for me- who are you to tell me this is not right for me? That I should go out there looking for this vague ‘better’ when I’m _happy_ here, when for the first time in my life I feel like I belong somewhere?” Seokmin drags in a deep breath and downs the rest of his soju.

“Seokmin-ah.” Jungkook’s voice sounds odd to his own ears. 

Seokmin casts him one last look and walks off with a muted, “Goodnight, Jungkook.” 

Jungkook lowers himself down to the sand and stretches his legs towards the sea, staring at the shadows cast on the water by the uneven lighting across the beach, trying to remember what he had been feeling so damn happy about just a few hours ago.

**Day 16: Busan to Gwangju**

The drive the next day is a low-key affair. Everybody awake till much after the sky had brightened over the horizon and the fatigue was well and truly beginning to catch up to them. Jungkook shakes himself awake while the rest are still passed out to spend some time reworking his neglected tracks. He’s not exactly hit by a burst of inspiration but there are certain melodies that simply unravel themselves better around the tips of his fingers, jumbled notes that untangle and reveal themselves to jungkook. He knows what he wants a little better now.

It’s a different thing altogether that every melody he writes is set to the tone of Seokmin’s voice.

**Day 17: Gwangju**

Jungkook watches Jeonghan’s band for the first time this tour at Gwangju. He slips away while Jihoon is on a phone call and he knows he’s going to be chewed out by the entire band for disappearing so close to their own slot but he doesn’t really care- he woke up with an overwhelming desire to know who Seokmin is when he’s singing on stage. So here he is. 

Soonyoung flies on to the stage growling into his mic and Jungkook already knows he’s in for a ride- everybody in the scene is varied degrees of deranged when performing but _S_ _oonyoung_ is something else entirely. And he has Jeonghan next to him, ever-ready to goad him into doing even crazier shit than he’s bound to get himself into. Soonyoung’s the only one still attempting stage dives occasionally, even after the year Chanyeol was forced to issue warnings because Jungkook had crashed face-first into the ground. It had not been pretty. 

Seokmin steps on stage in leather and with heavy eyeliner around his eyes and Jungkook tries not to have an out of body experience at the mere sight of him under the strobe lights. And then he starts singing. 

By this point, it’s not like Jungkook doesn’t know what he sounds like, it’s the exact opposite; Jungkook knows all the small inflections in his tone, what he sounds like when he sings in perfect head voice, the trills of his extended notes- Jungkook knows a little too much. But it’s different watching him perform rock songs, Purple Haze songs in particular.

He misses Seokjin, as is inevitable. Especially when they’re performing their older tracks, he can almost hear what Seokjin sounded like on them. Seokmin’s sound is not the same- it’s not bad, not by a long margin, but it is a distinct change from what Seokjin brought to the band. Plus, Seokmin and Wonpil have their own thing going on stage so that’s new. Jungkook isn’t sure how to feel about it yet.

Jungkook knows exactly when Seokmin spots him, eyes gleaming as they draw him out of a crowd full of people caught in his thrall. In the break between songs, Seokmin leans over to whisper something to Jeonghan who grins, darting a casual glance in Jungkook’s direction and nods.

Seokmin leans into the mic. “Hey everyone, we’re going to switch it up a little tonight, if that’s okay with y’all. The next song is a cover of one of Korea’s punk rock greats- I’m sure everyone in the crowd knows this song.”

Jeonghan plucks the opening notes and Jungkook recognizes it instantly: it’s YB'S Peppermint Candy. And how could he not? He may have started his deep dive into emo by listening to the standard No Brain and Crying Nut recommendations Chanyeol sent him but YB was the one that made it all line up for him- singing as a hobby, his love for music and whatever image of the future he had in his mind. (Well YB _and_ Shorty Cat who were the soundtrack to his gay awakening, but that’s a different story altogether.)

Seokmin, that sly little fucker raises an eyebrow at Jungkook, the picture of naive innocence. Then he proceeds to growl into the mic and Jungkook has to bite down on his tongue to stop himself from visibly shrieking, when he already knows he’s being watched. He’s certain this is one of those moments he will remember for the rest of his life.

Music is an emotional experience for Jungkook, always has been. The most remarkable moments of his life- the ones that _stay_ with him- are bookmarked by the music that accompanied them in his personal catalogue of memories. Jungkook can’t describe what it feels like to listen to seokmin sing YB- to sing Peppermint Candy, of all songs. His voice grows steadily around Jungkook, casting itself over the evening sky as it talks of a disillusioned boy pleading to go back to his childhood dreams. 

Jungkook pulls his jacket closer to cover the shivers in his arms and closes his eyes, lets Seokmin and YB carry him away from whatever has been holding him back from breathing all summer. For now, he permits himself to fall into the scenery and the sound that’s sticking to his skin without trying to dissect what it all _means._

**Day 18: Gwangju**

He’s up early yet again, crouched on his bunk and trying to make sense of whatever he wrote down the night before when he hears familiar voices outside. He’s out of the trailer, before he can think about it, squinting blearily at the brightness when the morning sun hits him.

“Jaykayyy.” Hoseok croons when he spots him. “Just woke up?”

“Not really.” jungkook shakes his head, trying to get the sunlight out of his eyes, “Been up for a while, I just came down because I thought I heard you and Namjoon hyung. Jiminie hyung is still passed out, by the way.” He tacks on, at the end, smiling mischievously at hoseok.

Namjoon cackles as Hoseok slaps his arm. “Yah, this is how you treat your hyung when you meet him after- how long has it been? God, have we not hung out since we caught up with you in Seoul?” 

Jungkook pouts. “Yeah... I’ve barely seen you both around this time. Have you been busy writing?”

“Maybe you’ve been preoccupied with someone else, Jungkook-ah,” says Namjoon, not unkindly and yet putting Jungkook on the spot even when he doesn’t mean to.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t realise I was ignoring you guys.” Jungkook responds, a little muted and serious.

“Oh my god-” Hoseok splutters, “Namjoon’s joking, okay? Nobody is feeling neglected, right Namjoon?” he glares.

Namjoon looks sufficiently chastised, “no, of course not- hey, listen. we’re glad you’re bonding with someone your age, okay? you’ve been stuck with us all these years and it’s nice to see you step out of your own circle, for a change.” Jungkook gives him a tremulous smile.

“It doesn’t hurt that the guy is also crazy talented,” Hoseok whistles, “Jeonghan sure knows how to find them.”

Jungkook sighs, twisting around trying to work out the knots in his back but he stops when he feels a throb against his spine. Maybe having jimin climb on like a koala while he was playing his solo wasn’t the brightest idea.

“Tired?” Namjoon asks kindly. Jungkook nods.

“We’re almost done with three weeks already- to think we could have just a week left of tour for good..” Namjoon trails off.

“What do you mean?” 

Hoseok puts an arm around his shoulder unthinkingly. “It’s the reason we’ve been busy actually- KoreanIndie has other departments that are not as rudimentary or niche as ours so we’ve been putting Chanyeol hyung in touch with them to try and find new sponsors for next season- the current ones got back to him confirming that they’re pulling out. I don’t think he’s been very successful in his hunt unfortunately.”

Jungkook knows what he’s talking about but he’s unaware of these details, of what’s really happening behind the scenes because he’s always tried to keep his distance from the chaos of organization. _G_ _od_ , he’s been a shitty friend. He really should’ve been there for Chanyeol this year.

Namjoon looks up at the sky furtively. “I just hope we don’t end up losing a good thing because we were sticklers for a purity that never existed in the first place, or because we were too afraid of losing indie cred or whatever; these are things that musical scenes nowhere have succeeded in rigidly maintaining. And I’m not taking a dig at Chanyeol, here.” 

Jungkook thinks over his words carefully before he speaks. “I don’t think this is about something so grand as musical purity or emulating what happened in the us or whatever. When you’ve built something up from the ground all by yourself, the thought of giving up even a little control must be frightening. And nobody likes being called a sell-out, no matter how much we say critics don’t affect us." He pauses for breath and adds, a little gingerly, “- and this tour is something so personal, for all of us. Isn’t it valid to be fearful of how these..these external forces may impact us?”

“Oh, Jungkook-ah, of course it is. It’s good to be wary and it’s only natural to be scared, I'm not denying any of that. But this scene has changed so much over the years, don’t you think? We’ve dealt with these, perhaps not-entirely internal, changes well enough that we’re still going. There is nothing these bigger names can bring that we won’t be able to tackle, in my opinion. _We’re_ still the same people, after all." He asserts, smiles apologetically when both his and hoseok’s phone go off simultaneously just a second later. 

They leave after promising to catch up properly soon. Namjoon, surprisingly, pulls him in for a hug, like he knows the things he said have stuck home for Jungkook in more ways than one. He’s always been so perceptive of Jungkook that way, maybe because Jungkook used to constantly trail behind the hyung with the bright pink hair when he first landed up here.

All of a sudden, the end of the tour seems a lot closer and more frightening than it did.

**Day 21: Daejeon**

He can’t resist going to watch Seokmin again. Their slots are further apart from each other at Daejeon so he pulls Junhui and Dowoon along as well. With those two there is never any compulsion to verbally communicate their thoughts or impulses. There is a certain shared perceptiveness, probably something they’ve all picked up from Junhui, that has brought them closer over the years and Jungkook loves it, the simplicity of _being_ beside them. (When they were first introduced to Junhui, back when they had just started doing small shows in Hongdae after moving to Seoul, they had assumed the long silences were because of the language barrier. It was only much later, witnessing an argument between him and Jihoon where he proceeded to stump Lee jihoon in _quick-fire Korean_ that they realised it was just something intrinsically Junhui.)

In all likelihood, now they can no doubt gauge that Jungkook is not entirely present with them in the moment, watching Purple Haze perform; a part of him is still trapped inside his own head- in his imagination of what he wants this moment to be. So, they just stand in the shadows, shoulder-to-shoulder, nodding and waving at people who they recognize but for the most part just offering their quiet company. And support, if he happens to need it.

They linger after the set ends and Junhui goes over to talk to Chan, who not so secretly idolises him. Jungkook is about to follow him when Jimin and Dahye stray over to his side from the other end of the stage. Jungkook doesn’t know which combination he fears more- Jimin with Taehyung or Jimin with Dahye. They’re both equally terrifying though with Taehyung, perhaps, there is some room to manoeuvre if he lets himself be bullied. Either way, he doesn’t know what to expect.

“Watching your boyfriend get you all hot and bothered, Jungkook-ah?” Park Jimin fucking hollers from halfway across the stage-front opening, loud enough to make heads turn. Dahye’s eyes widen and she looks up at the band jumping off stage, making a noise of recognition when she sees Seokmin.

Jungkook, who is essentially still stupid and hasn’t learnt a thing from his past mistakes, responds with, “He is not my boyfriend.” Even Dowoon turns his attention to him at that.

Jimin and Dahye share a brief smile as they reach jungkook. “But you want him to be right?” Dahye asks in the tone of someone helping a toddler learn the alphabet for the first time.

Jungkook looks somewhere at the space between her and Jimin’s bodies, gaze stuck at a light flickering in the distance. He shakes the hair out his eyes again- that's becoming a habit. “You heard him sing right now, didn’t you?” He asks finally, the sliver of hurt in his voice giving away the things he’s been stewing on, if the look of understanding on all their faces is anything to go by.

Dowoon rests a light hand at his elbow as Dahye reaches over and ruffles his hair. “Jungkook-ah,” she says softly, "when did you get so grown up?” Jungkook leans into the touch.

Jimin pulls up his right cheek with a finger, stretched taut until he lets it go and pokes at the mole under his chin. “You know you’re still my baby right?” He beams and Jungkook almost smiles back before jutting his chin out and scowling at him.

Dahye laughs, loud and ringing into the night. “ _God_ , why do boys have to make things so complicated?” Her gaze is still gentle but her words brook no arguments, “If you like him so much, why don’t you kiss him already? There’s no need to make an easy thing hard.”

**Day 23: Daejeon**

Daejeon goes by fast and before they know it, it’s the night before they go back to Seoul. Energies and exhaustion both run high simultaneously and no one is ready to go to sleep when the end of tour is so close. It’s a bittersweet kind of celebration, with the possibility of this being the very last September Tour hanging over their heads.

Jungkook’s sits in the trailer tinkering with Sungjin’s acoustic guitar. He isn’t exactly avoiding the party outside, it’s just that after a long time, he feels like he wants to sing the melody that he’s been writing, wants to hear it in his own voice, the cracks, the rough edges and all. Working on the track has been getting repetitive so he tries playing it out on the guitar, crooning along and tweaking sections of the main melody every time he sings. It doesn’t sound perfect- it’s only bare bones at the moment- but he likes it.

A scuffle at the trailer’s door accompanied by loud swearing breaks his train of thought and Yoongi climbs in just as he’s about to go out and investigate. He’s shivering through the jacket pulled over his tee again. Yoongi’s internal heating or the lack thereof is a mystery; he only dresses in layers but he barely sweats on stage and mid-august nights on the road are _chilly_ for him.

“I thought I’d find you here," he plops down next to Jungkook with a grunt. “Hiding out again?” 

“No- not today. Trying to compose, but I’m stuck I think.”

Yoongi fidgets with the ends of his sleeves until he has them pulled over his fingers. “Can I hear it?” He asks gently.

“Umm...yeah,” Jungkook mumurs in response.

He plays the part he’s sure of, singing along in spite of the regular post-show hoarseness of his voice. Yoongi doesn’t stop him or give any inputs in the middle of his playing. Jungkook concludes with a final strum on the strings and the silence extends itself uncomfortably until Yoongi speaks.

“It’s good,” he offers, “very raw and with parts that definitely need to be reworked, but good nonetheless. I like it.” Jungkook lets out a long breath he didn’t know he was holding in. Yoongi’s always upfront about music- even if he holds a self-proclaimed soft spot for Jungkook, he’d never lie to him about this.

Jungkook looks up at the ceiling and puts down the guitar. “I like it too, more than the other stuff i’ve been composing recently. It’s very different from the band’s music though- be it our released albums or the tracks we’ve written that are just for us.”

“That’s because this is your own music. It’s bound to be different.”

“Is it? It’s just so musically distinct from the things we write and listen to... I don’t know. it feels like…I don’t know if I'm meant for that. And even if I was, my voice now would never measure up to a good ballad singer’s- not that i’m saying I want to be a ballad singer.” Jungkook divulges in a rush, pretty much letting it all out at one go.

“Is this what you’ve been angsting over all tour?” Yoongi regards him with a frown, forcing him to look down and take note of the undisguised concern in his eyes. “Jungkook-ah, you’re one of the best singers to walk into this scene, and that stands true no matter what genre or language you’re singing in- you could sing in fucking _code_ and it wouldn’t matter. And as for what your music is like- please, don’t tell me you’re hung-up on some silly old idea of what being a true punk rock artist means or something. Haven’t we been subjected to enough of Namjoon’s drunken rambles about this?”

Jungkook bites his lower lip into his mouth, anxiously running his hands through his hair. “It’s partly about that- but also, I don’t know hyung, I’m so tired and I don’t know if I can be anything anywhere but here, you know? And it’s not so much about the genre as it about who I am today- and how much of that I owe to _this_ , this music, you guys and all that we are here.”

Yoongi scowls deeper and shoves him on the chest- it’s more about the gesture than about causing any real damage-he barely grazes Jungkook- and it gets the message across. “Listen, I’m always ready to hear you out, regardless of what problems you’re facing, but not if you’re going to be an idiot about it. Maybe you’ve wiped it from your memory, but the rest of us remember your JYP audition very well. I’m sorry to break down whatever tough guy self-image you have built up in your head but you’ve literally been in love with IU since her debut, and there’s nothing wrong with that!”

“ _Hyung’”_ Jungkook whines and tucks his chin inwards, ears flaming red. He _has_ in fact almost entirely removed any recollection of that audition from his mind.

“No, let me finish.” Yoongi lifts a hand up in between their bodies, “Why are you trying to pigeon-hole yourself so hard when you’ve always been more than what this place has made of you or what you’ve made of this scene. In fact, that’s always been the beauty of emo here, the fact that by the time it grew bigger, it was its own thing- a mix of genres and styles- what _we_ wanted it to be.” He finally exhales after speaking nonstop at one go. “One last thing. Jungkook-ah, stop looking at your personal music as a choice that takes you away from the band okay? There is no real reason why you can’t do both side by side, is there?”

Jungkook only processes what he’s been told for a second, doesn’t think about anything or anyone but for the proposition that the collective- _this_ musical scene- that he is inextricably connected to and his individual creative projects can coexist. Truthfully, he feels a little stupid for building it up into something so big and irresoluble for so long.

He peeks up at Yoongi who’s watching him with a kind of patience only he possesses, not genuinely angry but palpably worked up for Jungkook’s sake. “Thank you, hyung.” He says in the end, “I don’t know why I was struggling over that so much this year. I was just scared, I think.” He falls back against the bunk, letting his bangs cover his eyes as he tries not to cry. “I still am.”

“Oh, Kook-ah, that’s perfectly alright. Of course, you’re scared.” Yoongi runs a light hand through Jungkook’s hair, wrinkling his nose at the sweat on his forehead but not moving away. “We’re all scared of trying new things- or sticking to old ones if we’re given the choice to stop. Decisions like this are always hard but we’re here for you, you know? There’s no reason to go the distance alone. You’ve been so sad and absent this summer- we’ve kind of missed you.”

Jungkook turns slightly and nudges his nose against Yoongi’s arm until he lifts it and let’s Jungkook burrow in. “I’ve missed you too, hyung.”

They lie there like that for a while, hot and sticky but content and Jungkook feels a weight rise from his chest- not entirely, but enough. At least for now.

“Wanna go grab some chicken with Sungjinnie?”

“Yeah.”

**Day 25: Seoul**

On the morning after they get back to Seoul, Jungkook finishes his song. He’s so excited by the thought that it might actually be complete, he shakes Dowoon awake and makes him listen to it. Dowoon pinches his arm in annoyance but sits up and takes the headphones he’s handed, listening to it once, twice, thrice before he hands the headphones back and smiles at him. 

“Welcome back, Jungkook-ah." He whispers, voice broken and gravelly in the raptures of sleep, “Now let hyung go back to sleep, you dick.” And he lies back onto the bunk and falls asleep. Jungkook is so, so giddy, he doesn’t think twice. He climbs in behind Dowoon and curls his body around him, looping an arm around his waist. Dowoon yields to the touch, drawing him in and Jungkook closes his eyes.

There’s a strange rhythm throbbing in his veins, an odd static flickering against his skin all day long. He doesn’t know what to make of it but it smells somewhat like the salt of the Busan sea, like coming home. Or maybe he’s just more prone to dramatics than he thought.

Jungkook is, in fact, _very_ dramatic. That evening, he slides onto stage on his knees plucking an impromptu rhythm on his bass that gets even _Jimin_ to stop in his tracks and stare. There is no thinking involved in anything that takes place up there that night. He is one with the lights and sounds that envelop his every movement and he gives in to it, to the rising tide threatening to pull him away from the shore.

Jungkook feels the most himself he’s felt the entire tour on stage that night. Everything sounds exactly like it should and he’s pulling off ad-libs he’s never attempted before. He’s _invincible_ , like he’s always been up on stage and he needs that feeling tonight, to propel him to try something he’s only dared to do a couple times before. Jimin has always read his energy best on stage so it doesn’t catch Jungkook unawares when he starts off the opening notes of Dance, Dance. Dowoon gets the drift immediately and before he knows it, Jungkook has dragged the mic stand to the very edge of the stage, legs coming up on either side as he starts singing.

The thing is, Jungkook loves American pop punk. He knows how to sing most of those numbers in English almost solely based on how much he’s listened to them but it takes an extra push- a shot of whiskey, or two- to get him to sing in english on stage. Tonight though, he can’t remember why he ever thought he’d be bad at it- how could he be when he can get the crowd to move with him, to the ebb and flow of his voice alone, like he’s the only thing keeping that vast, living mass tethered. By the end of their set, he’s pulled the mic off the stand and is screaming with half his body hanging off the stage, Jimin (and even Sungjin, to an extent) matching him step for step.

He gets off stage, body slick with sweat and the strap of his guitar stamped into his collarbone. The rush of adrenaline hasn’t yet subsided and he knows exactly what he needs to do. He dumps his stuff as quickly as he can and makes a run for it. 

He glimpses Seokmin standing right where the crowd ends, in front of the stage where Jungkook just performed. Jungkook slows down to a jog at the sight of him, but doesn’t stop- this is not about him. Seokmin’s looks at him with something dark and restless in his eyes, a little less apprehension and a little more wanting.

“You’re a fucking asshole." He shouts.

Jungkook tilts his head to the side and runs his tongue over a drop of sweat pooling at the top of his lips. “I know.” He retorts with a cheeky grin. Then, he runs.

He finds The Nocturnals when there’s roughly ten to fifteen minutes left to their set. Baekhyun’s as carefree as managers come so Jungkook isn’t worried but he still makes it a point to avoid Sunmi and Yoongi’s gaze as he grabs Chanyeol’s arm and pulls him aside.

He’s shifting from one foot to the other, still pulsating bodily with something manic as he asks, “Wanna go for a run, hyung?”

Chanyeol’s face opens up into the widest smile he’s seen him sporting this year and there’s a pang of regret in Jungkook’s chest that he chooses to ignore. “Fuck yeah! Let’s go, I don’t have much time.” He looks back at his bandmates once and Younghyun puts his hand out for Chanyeol’s guitar. Chanyeol hands it over just a tad bit sheepish, but fingers lingering over Younghyun’s. Jungkook will have to ask about that later.

They take off at a slower pace picking up speed as they go until they’re full on sprinting, shuffling in and out of the path between trailers and the narrow spaces between stages and people. It’s an old tradition of theirs- the lap across the grounds before or after a set, but they haven’t followed through with it in the last year or two. 

Jungkook is always too much for his body when the stage high is at its peak- there is a perceptible thundering in the spaces between his ribs that make it impossible to speak, to breathe. He needs to release it somehow and physical exercise has always been the most effective way to do it. Chanyeol is the only one who _gets_ him, who’s high is just as strong and relentless and whose outlets are the same. Jungkook doesn’t remember how it started, he only knows that somebody began running and the other gave chase and before they knew it, it became _their thing._

There’s nothing quite like sprinting with Chanyeol. It’s dark, night has long past fallen over seoul and there are lights all over the grounds yet he feels like there couldn’t possibly be anything brighter than the two of them right then. It’s like blazing electricity, the friction between their bodies, the rush of wind and music past their ears and the thudding in their chest- it’s a feeling second only to being on stage. 

“I finalised the deal with the sponsors.” Chanyeol pants, one hand on his knee as he takes in a big gulp of air, choosing to spill the beans when they’ve almost made it back and he’s barely two minutes from being called on. 

“What? when?” Jungkook hiccups, pulling his shirt off his stomach and fanning it back and forth. 

“Just this morning- I-” He pauses to catch his breath again, “I met with Park Yoonsik from No Brain through one of Namjoon’s contacts at the blog- he remembered me from that year we got them to come down here for the closing stage- can you fucking believe it, Jungkook-ah, he remembered me?!” He’s glowing with the sheen of sweat on his skin under the dim lighting behind the stage. “He’s signed with CNC right now and we negotiated with the company to get us on-location sponsors for five years.” He looks so relieved and buoyant after so long that Jungkook is pulled into the circuit of his happiness.

“Of course they remember you! You’re a certified rockstar- the oldest one I know anyway.” He breaks off into giggles, covering up his mouth with the back of his hand.

Chanyeol’s smile falls for a moment and his eyebrows crease. “I’m scared, you know? They’re big players- they sign _idols_ , for fucks sake. We’ll have proper funding, much better than we’ve had all this while…but what if people hate me for this deal? What if they think I’m a sell-out who’s ruined the legacy of emo- I mean I don't know what else I could’ve done but-”

“Hey, hey, hyung.” Jungkook stops him when he realises he’s about to go off on a tangent and there’s no time for that, this close to show time. He steps closer and tugs Chanyeol to himself. “You did good. Everyone trusts you. We know you did your best.” Chanyeol heaves a sigh and curls into Jungkook, tucking his head into Jungkook’s neck. It’s incredible how small he can make himself, fitting all six feet of him into a friend’s embrace. 

“Now go, it’s time to eye-fuck Younghyun hyung on stage- shoo!” Jungkook shoves him away.

“You- brat-” Chanyeol splutters and takes off, finally listening to Yoongi’s insistent calls. Jungkook himself traipses down to where Baekhyun’s standing, under the awning of the merch tent.

Baekhyun raises an arm in greeting and keeps it up until Jungkook settles against his side, arm falling over his shoulder comfortably. “He told you about the deal with CNC?” Jungkook nods.

“He was really scared of going through with it, you know? Staying up nights like a true-blooded emo teenager overthinking his life choices- not unlike _someone else_ -” Baekhyun breaks off with a tiny yip when Jungkook tightens his hold over the arm hanging around his own “- fine I get it, no alluding to your summer of self-isolation, you don’t have to resort to violence now.”

“I’m glad he went through with it,” he continues after a brief pause. “Can’t imagine all of this ending now, when we’ve finally found our footing.”

Jungkook hums in agreement before asking, “Did you ever think what the tour would be like this far into the future- back when you started? I don’t really recall talking to you guys about it.”

“Fuck no. You think we thought we’d last more than a season? Hell, more than that first show in Seoul? I didn’t even think we could pull off Seoul, kept telling Chanyeol he was being too idealistic, that nobody would be interested, that we should stick to performing at events that were already running as we’d never be able to organise a whole tour on our own. You know what Yoongi and I are like when we get together. But look where Chanyeol’s passion got us. Look where we are now.”

Jungkook leans back until his head hits Baekhyun’s arm and he shifts down until he can rest his head on the bump of his shoulder. “I'm really glad he has you with him, hyung. I’m sorry I haven't been there for you when i knew you guys needed me to be.”

“Hmm,” Baekhyun pretends to consider his apology, “You let me beat you one round at Mario Kart, and i’ll consider forgiving you.”

“Dick.” 

Baekhyun just laughs like he’s cracked the funniest joke ever to be told. 

“Things are going to be very different next year, aren’t they?” Jungkook asks, pulling at the hem of Baekhyun’s shirt with his free hand.

“Maybe, maybe not. I’m not about to waste what’s left of this tour thinking of what next year’s going to be like, you know? Plus the things that matter are going to be the same, right? You, me and all our friends right here, together?”

“Yeah, they are.” Jungkook answers, cracking a tiny smile, tasting something like hope and spilled beer on Baekhyun’s ratty MCR t-shirt which, now that he takes a closer look, probably belonged to either Chanyeol or Jungkook at some point. 

“That was pretty fucking gay, wasn’t it?”

Jungkooks huffs out a laugh. “Yeah, it was.”

“God I’m getting soft. Is it old age, do you think? I'd say it’s spending too much time with Chanyeol but it’s probably because of Yoongi. Is it because we fucked? Do you think tender philosophical whataboutery gets transmitted through shared orgasms- I _knew_ that was a mistake-”

“Please stop for fuck’s sake, you’re ruining my entire childhood right now,” Jungkook intervenes, voice high-pitched and panicked.

Baekhyun leers at him. “How is ickle Jungkookie going to bone Hannie’s new vocalist if he can’t even hear the word orgasm without throwing up?”

“Oh my fucking god hyung!” Jungkook yells, pushing Baekhyun away in mock outrage until his face hurts with the effort it takes to not smile and they both dissolve into fits of laughter, falling into each other.

**Day 27: Seoul**

They put on one of their best sets as a band on closing night. They have an impromptu jam session in the trailer after they’ve all gotten up in the morning and Jungkook spies Jihoon abruptly pop open his laptop which means they were either good enough to record or he’s been inspired to write, which rarely happens amidst the stress of tour and managing. 

Whether or not it’s because of the energy from the morning being carried forward, they’re incredibly in sync on stage messing with their set list in the best possible way and by the time they close with Hit The Road, Jungkook is predictably in tears. He cries halfway through the set, actually, but it doesn’t matter, _everyone’s_ crying, even Junhui when they get off stage. Sungjin allows them to pull him into the group hug which propels Jimin into another round of tears because he _never_ lets them do that. They’re just a sweaty, messy, exuberant tangle of limbs for one glorious moment and it’s perfect, it’s everything. 

Jungkook doesn’t want to spoil the moment but he also needs to do one last thing before the tour is over. For all the time he spends agonizing over the hows and whys, once he makes up his mind about something, he just has to get to it immediately. When they break apart from the hug, his hand lingers on Jihoon’s elbow and he grabs at it lightly. Jihoon resigns himself to being pulled away and everyone else looks on expectantly, like they had been waiting for it to happen.

They walk as far as they can from the crowd, ultimately giving up and just sitting down on the steps of their trailer, unable to find a good empty spot.

“You’ve been kind of a dick, Jungkook-ah,” jihoon starts without preamble, “talking to everyone but me about what you’ve been feeling when i was right here and would’ve understood, you know.”

Jungkook licks over his torn lower lip, thinking about how many people he’s unknowingly hurt over the summer, too caught up in his own head. “I’m sorry, hyung. I really am. It’s not like I thought you wouldn’t understand- I, I just- wasn’t sure of what I was feeling myself.” His voice cracks and he blinks away tears, still emotionally charged from the performance.

“Yah, I’m not saying this to guilt-trip you, or so that you can beat yourself up about it, okay?” Jihoon taps his wrist lightly, making Jungkook look up at him, “Okay?” 

Jungkook sniffs, running a hand over his cheeks, and nods. “I know, I know, this isn’t because of what you said- you know how I get after a good show.” He wipes at his eyes again and his nose, for good measure and clears his throat. “I didn’t come to you because touring is hard on you anyway- you’d rather be at the studio than chasing after us for a whole month- and I was feeling all these things but I didn’t even know what they meant. I didn’t want to drop a bomb like ‘I’m leaving the band’ on you, when I wasn’t certain that I wanted to.”

Jihoon scoffs, “You’re not going to leave, you’re too in love with Jun for that.” Jungkook chokes out a laugh. “But Jungkook,” Jihoon’s voice stills. “You know you can, right? If you wanted to? We’re not- nobody’s going to hold it against you.”

“I’m not going to leave, hyung. We started this thing together.” 

“I know, and we started it because we all wanted to make music together. If any one of you doesn’t want to anymore, it just wouldn’t feel right and it would probably show in our music. That we’re not all there.” Jihoon’s grip is a little tighter on his wrist, and Jungkook can tell that he’s not the only one teetering at the moment. “We’ve been in this thing far longer than this band to let the fear of leaving affect what we make, don’t you think?"

“Oh god, please don’t bring up the time we had to sing in front of everyone at that one birthday party, I think I will start crying again in sheer embarrassment-” Jungkook grouches.

“You brought it up, fucker. I was just thinking of singing- the way we used to do it, at your place, at mine, without any purpose. I don’t think we would’ve been friends if not for that.” Jihoon smirks. “I mean why the fuck would I want to hang out with an overcompetitive sports addict who secretly cried while watching Spirited Away?”

“Oh please,” Jungkook mocks, “you should consider yourself lucky that I agreed to be friends with you. You were the grumpiest eight year old in all of Busan.” Jihoon punches his arm, because he can’t go too long without exhibiting at least a modicum of violence. Jungkook whines but uses the opening to twists Jihoon’s arms and crush him under Jungkook’s body. It’s the most reassured he’s felt, lying on top of his oldest friend, his body thrashing underneath Jungkook’s own, with the pointed edge of the steps of the trailer digging into his hips. Maybe this is the eternal, full circle moment he’s been in pursuit of all summer- crouched under Jungkook’s nose with a feigned frown plastered on to trick him.

**Day 28: Seoul**

Jungkook waits for Seokmin at the empty expanse of grounds far away from the lights and the fireworks and the fanfare, a good way past midnight. Tearing himself away from his friends wasn’t as hard as he thought it would be, maybe because they had been slobbering kisses on his cheek for the better part of an hour- Taehyung and Jimin, particularly.

Earlier, he had pushed a rare clingy Jihoon at Dowoon and gone looking for Seokmin, to tell him to meet him here. No more accidental run-ins, not when he could be active in pursuing the things that he wants, that are within his reach.

Seokmin shows up ten minutes after Jungkook sat himself down on the grass, too tired to make his legs hold up his weight. Seokmin’s hair is dishevelled- a mix of sweat and dust and the _road-_ his jeans covered in mud stains and there is a streak of blue paint on his left cheek. Jungkook can’t quite remember the last time he saw someone so beautiful. 

“Hey,” Seokmin greets, sitting down next to him and leaning back to rest his body on his arms. “So word on the street is that it’s your birthday today.”

“Yeah. It is.” Jungkook smiles.

Seokmin cocks his head, “So did you call me here to ask for a present?” he asks, grinning cheekily. Jungkook’s eyes widened, “Of course not.”

“Hmm...then is this your special way of saying goodbye, one-on-one and tucked away into a corner of the summer, hidden from everybody else?”

Jungkook lets out a small laugh at that. “God _no_ , this is not a goodbye either- at least, I hope not.” He glances sideways at Seokmin and catches him looking right back at Jungkook, somewhat shyly. “I really love your voice, you know?”

Seokmin’s smile drops discernibly. “You called me here to talk about my voice again? I thought this was something else, I-” 

“No, no, I’m getting to that- I just- I was thinking about watching you perform the other day, before you came over right now and it was on my mind, that’s why I said it. I called you here for something else- there's something I need to ask you.”

“I was hoping that you would.” Seokmin says with a smile so effervescent that Jungkook would call it a melody, a feeling inscribed deep in the pages of an old book full of half-written lyrics but he wasn’t sure he wanted to- didn't want to define- _give a name-_ to what was so unguarded and nebulous. 

“I wanted to ask you if you would sing for me- there’s a track I wrote when I was thinking-” Jungkook scratches at the back of his neck, stalling for time. “I started writing it after I heard you sing for the first time and I’d really like if you would agree to be on it- if it’s possible for you and umm...if you want to-” 

“I-” Seokmin starts to speak, but Jungkook stops him with a hand on his shoulder, jolting him. 

Jungkook retracts his hand, “Just- please let me finish, before I run out of courage to say everything that I mean to.” He glances downwards, entwining his hands and then pulling at them, trying not to second guess himself now. “I want to make music with you because I heard you sing Breath when tour first started, before I had even met you. I had never felt that drawn to the sound of a voice, never spent sleepless nights at war between wanting to be free of it but being helpless to it's call. And I'm not saying any of this because I think you’re too good for Purple Haze or the September Tour or punk, it’s purely because- because when I close my eyes at night, I can hear you, the way I used to hear the sounds of the ocean when I first started writing compositions that were just for me.”

Jungkook takes a breath, a pause before he jumps into the deep sea again. “I also like you- I like you a lot. I like how you talk about your band and about finding a place here- like it’s something incomprehensible you got caught up in but now you can’t help but see to its conclusion. I like how passionate you are about finding a musical world where you can belong. I also love your smile, how it lights up your whole face up to your eyes. I love the way you perform, _god,_ watching you on stage gives me palpitations, and umm….yeah. I’d like to have you sing for me. And I like you. These are two different things that are both true.”

Jungkook exhales and bites his bottom lip, anxious yet relieved at having said all that he had to. He is bracing himself internally for whatever’s coming when he hears a sniffle. He catches Seokmin staring at him in open surprise, the wetness in his eyes imperceivable in the dim light.

Seokmin sniffs again and rubs at his eyes before emitting a broken laugh. “You know I told myself you would make me cry the very first time I met you.” He brings one hand forward and pulls at the threads unravelling from Jungkook’s jeans at his knees, “I just didn’t know it would be like this. Did you pretend to be cool and dark and mysterious all of last month so that you could land that confession just right, hmm?”

“I- what? I’m none of those things-” Jungkook squeaks, a little confused at where the conversation is heading and unsure if that constituted a rejection or not.

“No,” Seokmin says softly, pulling himself forward entirely until he’s leaning in towards Jungkook, close, so close and looking at him through his eyelashes, “you’re not.” He brings a hand up to Jungkook’s cheek slowly and brushes the back of his knuckles against it, a touch so light Jungkook would miss it if his eyes weren’t tracking Seokmin’s every movement, if his neurons hadn’t started firing the moment he started leaning closer. 

Seokmin cups his cheek tenderly and continues, “You’re warm and earnest and kind and you love the people you love so wholly and so loudly, it is impossible to not be pulled into your orbit, to want to be one of those you consider your own. You were cool when I first met you and you still are and for some reason you kept complimenting me? I haven’t even begun to wrap my head around the thing that you are when you’re on stage and now you say all those things and ask me to sing for you. I guess what i’m saying is that I was hoping you would ask to kiss me instead.” 

_Oh._

Jungkook can’t say that he has not thought about it, kissing Seokmin. It's only natural, given every shared moment over the past four weeks that has brought them here. But he didn’t know it was a living, breathing want inside of him, waiting to be stirred awake until Seokmin explicitly asked him to. And Jungkook-he's only human-helpless to the pressures that weigh on him: the slight tremble of Seokmin’s fingers on his cheeks, the tickle of his breath on Jungkook’s chin, the silent question in his eyes. Jungkook leans in.

They move together slowly, the moment stretching itself out for them to scope and feel for each other without taking what’s right there, until their noses nudge together and Seokmin giggles, a ripple of breath and joy almost into Jungkook’s mouth. Something in Jungkook breaks and he reaches out, fingers grabbing Seokmin’s chin and tilting it until finally, _finally_ their lips meet. 

It’s a searching kiss, languid and moving and learning the taste of each other’s song more than anything else. There is nothing deliberate about it, nor anything final- do first meetings truly come with an ending or are familiar people eternally meeting each other anew over and over again? Jungkook doesn’t want to attach any big meaning to it like he’s been trying to discover all summer- he just lets himself feel the pull of Seokmin’s teeth on his bottom lip, the hair at the back of Seokmin’s neck on his hand, the friction between their knees and everything it stokes in the center of his chest.

Even when their lips part, they don’t. They hold one another still and steady, breathing in the moment they’ve built together, eyes half-closed, forehead against forehead. If Jungkook tries, he can almost feel the touch of sand against his toes, the water lapping up at his ankles. 

They stay like that until Seokmin pops an eye open and laughs, pulling away, because he’s happy and Jungkook laughs too, because he might be a little in love. 

Jungkook fits his fingers between Seokmin’s and reels him back in, until their arms are touching. His face hurts from how hard he’s smiling. “You’re not just kissing me because tour’s over, right? One last night with the cool, dark and mysterious stranger before you disappear for the year?” He asks in the most affected voice he can muster.

Seokmin pulls his hand away and slaps his shoulder but he’s smiling too, when he says, “Of course not. I’m kissing you because you’re going to produce my first solo album. Let’s call it a bit of an incentive- for you to not keep your best tracks for yourself.” He barely finishes the sentence before he’s fully laughing again- at his own joke too- falling against Jungkook with the force of it.

Jungkook could put this feeling in a song, if he wanted to; the sound thrumming through his veins, reflected in Seokmin’s gleaming eyes in the moonlight, the echoes of their laughter filtering through the night sky and mixing with the smell of fire and gunpowder in the distance, and maybe something a little something more, the thing that makes Jungkook take laps around the grounds and maybe kiss Seokmin again. Jungkook could write the best love song he’s ever written. But he doesn’t want to, not right now.

**Author's Note:**

> title taken from dance, dance by fall out boy.
> 
> all the bands mentioned in the fic are real, taken from the busan rock fest lineup from 2000-2009 except bassline which is a fishing pun and nocturnals which is an extension of nocturne (tablo's word in remapping the human soul). 
> 
> [additional notes](https://feversend.dreamwidth.org/1572.html)
> 
> honestly i have done extensive research for this and most of it never made it in, so feel free to talk to me about it here or hit me up on [twitter](https://twitter.com/deadseoull?s=08) or [my cc](https://curiouscat.me/deadwine)


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